


Kiss, Don't Tell

by wave_of_sorrow



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Bisexual Character, DADT, First Time, Gay For You, Gay Male Character, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wave_of_sorrow/pseuds/wave_of_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hannibal gets investigated for DADT and confides in Face that he's gay, and Face finds that knowledge all sorts of distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss, Don't Tell

“You wanted to see me, boss?” Face asks, leaning in the doorway to Hannibal’s office like he belongs there. The kid’s only been in his unit for a few months and already he seems to have made himself completely at home, and Hannibal can’t deny that he fits, smartass remarks and all.

“Yeah,” he says, and decides the paperwork he’s been trying to finish is a lost cause at this point. “Come on in, Face.” The door closes with a bang that disrupts the quiet of the building with everyone gone home for the night, and Face’s grin is completely unapologetic when Hannibal scowls.

He settles himself into the chair opposite Hannibal’s desk, starts to put his feet up on it and then thinks better of it. “So, what’s up?”

“Do you want a drink?” Hannibal asks, and Face shakes his head. He lights a cigar because he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, and he doesn’t want to be having this conversation either. “Cigar?” he says, and Face looks so startled that Hannibal realises he can’t remember ever offering anyone a cigar before in his life.

“You’re starting to scare me, Hannibal,” Face says, and his laugh sounds too nervous.

Hannibal’s smile is humourless, and he takes another drag of the cigar, exhaling slowly to buy himself a bit more time. “Look,” he says eventually, and makes himself meet Face’s gaze head-on, “about that DADT thing.”

Face visibly relaxes and lets out a relieved breath. “Oh, _that’s_ what this is about,” he says, and Hannibal sort of doesn’t understand how that’s a good thing.

“Yes,” he says, bewildered, “that. What did you think I wanted to talk to you about?”

Face shrugs, back to his usual devil-may-care self, and says, “For all I knew I was coming here to be thrown out of your unit.”

Hannibal takes a moment to remind himself that, for all his bravado and seeming lack of fucks given, Face is still very much the lost boy who joined the army because he didn’t belong anywhere else. It's easy to forget how much Face wants this, being in Hannibal's unit, with how much he pushes his luck both with other officers on base and Hannibal himself, but the truth of the matter is this: Hannibal didn't want Face in his unit, and the kid just kept bugging him until he gave up and took him in.

"Do you really think that I'd throw you out now?" he asks, and hopes the words don't come out too harsh. "After all the strings I had to pull to get you transferred in the first place?"

"Liar," Face says, and can't quite hide his grin. "Jefferson would have fucking paid you to take me if you hadn't asked already."

"That's Colonel Jefferson to you, kid," Hannibal says, because Face is right but he's not planning to tell him that. Face's smile says he sees straight through him, and Hannibal blows smoke rings into the air in favour of saying anything more.

"Listen, boss," Face says after a moment. He seems to reconsider, but then ploughs ahead anyway, "Everybody on this base knows that Decker hates your guts. He's just trying to stir up some shit and make things more difficult for you. Nothing's gonna come of it, so don't worry."

"Right," Hannibal says, because he doesn’t quite know what Face is trying to say.

Face looks a bit nervous and rubs his hand over his mouth to hide it. "Look, I don't mean to put my nose where it doesn't belong," he says, and Hannibal thinks that would actually be a first, "but this whole investigation is bullshit and we all know it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, and this conversation isn't really going the way he'd planned.

"Nothing," Face says, and looks at Hannibal in a way that makes him think the exact opposite is true. "Just that you don't need to worry about the implications of this. I know there’s nothing to it. We all do."

"Kid, I’m gay," Hannibal says, and Face's reassuring smile slides into an expression of shock and gets stuck there.

"Wait, what," he says, voice flat.

"I'm gay," Hannibal repeats, trying for nonchalant but ending up somewhere in the quietly challenging anyone to say something range of things. It's funny, but now that he thinks about it he realises he's never actually said that out loud to anyone before. He supposes it never really mattered, and he wishes that it didn’t matter now. "That's why I wanted to speak to you."

Face says, "Oh."

"I thought you should know, so you'd be prepared for the worst," he tells him, and Face still doesn't say anything and even his look of shock has morphed into one of vague calm. "That's all."

"Right," Face says, and Hannibal hates to admit that his indifference is harder to take than any amount of anger or disgust would have been. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats incredulously, because he's just told a subordinate officer, one that seems to regard him as some sort of father figure no less, that he likes to fuck men and that's really sort of not okay, all things considered.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Face says, and shrugs like it's all the same to him. "That it, then?"

"That's all, yeah," Hannibal says, failing to keep the scowl off his face.

"Right then," Face says and gets up, and his smile is blinding. "See you in the morning, boss."

"Yeah, see you," Hannibal says, but the door's already slammed shut behind the kid. He's not sure what he was expecting, really, but he's sure that this isn't it.

*

He does see Face the next morning and he tries not to let it show that half of him expected the kid to do a runner on him, but judging by the rueful grin Face offers him during the team meeting it's a bit obvious.

Hannibal figures he can't really be blamed for thinking it, though, what with Face's track record of running and all; from the foster family he was put in when he was four, and then from the orphanage he was put in after that when he was eight, and then again when he came to join the army the second he was old enough. He wonders sometimes what it is that Face is running from, but all the information he's been able to gather on the kid's motivations and background came from files and favours he called in and never from Face himself.

Face is worryingly good at evading questions and keeping himself hidden away, so much that even when Hannibal thinks he's got him figured out, he doesn't. He's learnt not to push Face for answers by now if he actually wants any, that it’s more effective to wait for Face to come to him and tell him up-front what's really going on. Sometimes he does, but mostly he doesn’t. When he thinks about it Hannibal realises that for all that Face talks, he never actually says anything.

He tries to corner Face after the meeting's concluded but the kid slips away before he can. He's not surprised; Face, for all that he's reckless, generally avoids direct conflict.

*

It's three days before Hannibal gets a chance to speak to Face in private, and it's only because the lieutenant in question knocks on his door late that evening.

"Face," he says, confused and then worried. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Face says slowly, shaking his head not quite meeting his eye.

" _Face_ ," he says again and with more authority.

"Nothing's wrong, boss," Face says, and this time he looks Hannibal straight in the eye. "I swear. I just." His gaze shifts to the general vicinity of Hannibal's shoulder and he grimaces like he doesn't know what he wants to say, or maybe like he knows and just doesn't want to say it.

"Do you want to come in?" Hannibal asks, and Face looks intensely uncomfortable even as he nods.

He leaves the kid to pace around his living room as he gets a couple of beers from the freezer, and by the time he comes back Face is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He jumps a little when Hannibal nudges the cold bottle against his bare forearm but accepts it with a distracted smile and takes a few deep pulls.

"So," Hannibal says, settling down next to Face and hoping he'll want to talk, that this won't be one of those times when the lieutenant shows up on his doorstep, upset or angry or just totally shitfaced, and never tells him _why._

"I don't want another CO," Face blurts, scowling at the bottle in his hands.

"Right," Hannibal says slowly.

"I mean, I really, actually, absolutely do not want to be in another unit," Face says, and glances at Hannibal before going back to methodically shredding the label on his beer bottle. He's quiet for a few moments then and Hannibal knows better than to interrupt him. "I like how things are right now," he says eventually, and it sounds like it's a difficult admission to make. "I'm happy here and I don't want things to change, you know?"

"I know, kid," Hannibal says, and he wants to reach over and squeeze his hand but he thinks that probably isn't such a good idea. "I'm sorry."

Face scowls at his hands, wet with condensation and bits of paper sticking to it, and says, "Don't be. It's not your fault." Hannibal wants to say that it is, but before he can get a word in Face goes on, his voice quiet and small and uncharacteristically awkward, "I just really liked being in your unit, Hannibal. I liked being around you and I liked that you never let me get away with any of my bullshit. I felt, shit, I felt like we were close, like I could trust you and now..." He trails off and makes a face like he's not quite sure how to say what he means.

"And now you feel cheated?" Hannibal guesses. "Because you feel you've been lied to, because I never told you I was gay?"

Face shrugs, and he's still looking anywhere but at Hannibal. "I don't know, man. I just don't know what I'm feeling right now."

"Would it have made a difference if you'd known right from the start that I fuck men?" he demands, and he’s not trying to be vicious but Face flinches anyway. "Well, would it?"

"I don't know," Face says, and sets his half-drunk beer down on the coffee table. "I don't know what to think or feel right now, except that I don't want things to change." He glances at Hannibal then and offers him a humourless smile. "Or I guess I wish things hadn't changed, that everything could have just stayed the way it was without any of this crap. Guess it's a bit late for that, eh?"

"That's life, kid," Hannibal tells him, and he thinks it comes out less kind than he meant it.

"I know, boss," Face says and runs a hand through his hair, agitated and jumpy. "I fucking know that."

"Then what's the problem?" Hannibal asks, and he only swallows another mouthful of beer when Face glares at him. "Really, though," he says when the kid doesn't react beyond a pissed off expression and twisting his hands in his lap. "What's the problem here, Face?"

"Uh, let me think," he says, mocking. "You might be thrown out of the fucking army which leaves me with no CO."

"That won't happen, kid," Hannibal says, wishing he had a cigar but not wanting to stand up to get one now that he has Face talking. "Like you said, Decker hates my guts. You know that, I know that, everyone knows that. It’s going to be fine.”

“Then why bother telling me, boss?” Face asks, and Hannibal wonders if he realises how horribly young he seems in his helpless anger. “If it’s all going to be fine, why fucking tell me?”

Hannibal shrugs, sets his beer down next to Face’s and says, “I wanted you to be prepared for the worst. I wanted to be honest with you. I needed to tell _somebody._ I owed you the truth. Take your pick.”

Face huffs and flops back against the couch with a muttered, “Fuck, Hannibal.” He scrubs a hand over his face and speaks into his palm, “Even if you’re right, even if the investigation doesn’t go anywhere, it’s all still fucked.”

"Ah," Hannibal says, and Face looks at him sharply.

"What?" he says, ground out from between clenched teeth.

"The problem isn't that I might get thrown out over this, is it?" he says, and Face's expression hardens into something defiant and stubborn that Hannibal hasn't seen on him in a while. "The problem is that I'm gay."

"No," Face says, and it's low and furious.

"Don't bullshit me, Face," Hannibal says, angry himself now.

"I'm not bullshitting you!" he says, and gets up to pace the room.

"The hell you're not," Hannibal says, standing up and blocking the kid's way. "Catholic upbringing, then the army, of course you're pissed that your commanding officer is a fag."

"That's not it," Face hisses, and Hannibal knows all he really wants is to walk away from this whole conversation and he's not letting him. "It's not!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in a helpless gesture and Hannibal's almost surprised the kid hasn't punched him yet with how often he gets into fights on base.

"Then _what_ is it?" Hannibal demands, up in the kid's face now.

For a moment Face looks like he's about to say something, really, actually _say_ something, but then he shakes his head and mutters, "Fuck it." He grabs Hannibal by the shirtfront and slams the two of them together, and kisses him. It's harsh and uncontrolled, nothing kind about it, only the bruising press of mouths and teeth and the garbled noise Hannibal makes.

Face cups his palm around the back of Hannibal's neck and tilts his head just so as he opens his mouth in an unmistakable gesture. The pain morphs into something else then, with their tongues touching and Face surging up against Hannibal and nearly toppling them over. Face kisses like he does almost everything else: skilfully and passionately and without much thought for the consequences.

By the time Face pushes him away a little, breathing hard and looking even angrier than he did before, Hannibal realises he's got his hands on the kid's waist and he let himself get pulled further into that kiss than he quite probably should have.

"This," Face growls, "is the problem."

Hannibal says, "Oh," and his voice comes out a little dazed.

"Yeah," Face says, and his smile is self-deprecating and mocking and not a smile at all, really. " _Oh._ I can't fucking look at you without thinking about it. Hell, I can't look at anyone without wondering whether you've fucked them, what you're like in bed, and I'm not," he makes a face and his hands tighten in Hannibal's shirt. "I'm not gay. I'm really, really not. I like girls. I _love_ girls. But now I can't stop thinking about it, about you and I just... Fuck, I don't even know, man."

"Really, Face?" Hannibal says, and he's torn between wanting to punch the kid in the face and kiss him senseless. "You pick now to discover you're bi? Really?"

Face shrugs and says, "I didn't fucking choose this, boss!"

"No shit," he deadpans, and he thinks vaguely that they should probably let go of each other at some point but finds that he doesn't want to. It's ridiculous, really, this whole situation. Hannibal wanted Face the second he saw him, but regulations being what they were and him being the commanding officer and all, it wasn't ever something he thought about acting on. Then Face had made sure his reputation as the ultimate ladies' man on base manifested itself faster than should have been possible, and then that was that, really. Hannibal could appreciate Face's looks, sure, but always knowing that nothing would happen between them. Except that that's a whole lot harder when he has his arms full of angry, confused, good-smelling lieutenant. "Fuck, Face," he grumbles, and ruefully removes his hands from the kid's waist.

"That's the general idea, yeah," Face grins, easily switching back to his usual, confident self. He moves back into Hannibal's space, intent on another kiss, but hands on his upper arms stop him before he gets there.

"No, kid, stop," Hannibal says, and pushes him back. "We're not doing this. We can't ever do this, least of all now. I'm not getting you thrown out as well just to satisfy a mild curiosity."

"What the fuck, boss?" Face says, making to get close again but Hannibal's palm slamming into his chest prevents him. "This isn't me being curious, Hannibal. It's not. You're, I'm," he takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes like he's steeling himself for what he wants to say, and then he meets Hannibal's gaze as he goes on. "You matter to me, Hannibal. More than anyone I've ever known. I guess I just never thought about it like _that."_

"That is precisely why we're not doing this, Face," Hannibal says, and he's pissed off now, at Face for making things even more complicated at a time like this and at himself for wanting to just fuck the consequences and find out what the kid sounds like when he comes.

"What?" Face says, indignant and childishly angry. "Why not?"

"Because you're confused and I care about you and things don't need to get any messier than they already are," Hannibal says, and he removes his hand from Face's chest because the kid's stopped struggling against it.

"So, what you're saying is you'd fuck me if you didn't care about me?" Face says, sounding worryingly calm.

"I don't," Hannibal grimaces and gestures vaguely, "do emotional involvement, kid. And neither do you."

"How the fuck do you know what I do or don't do?" Face demands, and they're back to anger and scowling.

"Oh, _please,_ Face," Hannibal says, and he knows it's a low blow even as he says it, "you'll fuck anything with tits as long as you can throw them out in the morning. You don't _do_ relationships, lieutenant, and I'm too old for a quick fuck that could ruin both our careers."

"Fuck you, sir," Face says, and it's low and vicious and like he's actually hurt. "You don't know me."

"And who's fault is that?" Hannibal asks, and Face has the grace to look caught out for about all of five seconds before he's poking Hannibal in the chest and yelling again.

"And why do you think that is, boss? Could it be that every fucking time I try to talk to you, you treat me like a child instead of taking me seriously?"

"I don't treat you like a child, Face," Hannibal says, slapping his hand away with more force then necessary. "But maybe I should start, seeing as you're behaving like one."

"Oh, great!" Face throws his hands up, laughing. "Now it's all my fault!"

"Well, it isn't my fault," Hannibal says, and belatedly realises how childish _he's_ sounding.

"Of course not," Face says, mocking. "How could the great Hannibal Smith ever be responsible for fucking up a situation? You're fucking infallible, boss!"

"You are way out of line, kid," he says, and Face just snorts.

"Yeah? What do you plan to do about it?" he asks, far too amused by all of this. "Are you going to bend me over the couch and spank me?"

"Face," Hannibal growls, and finds he's hauled the kid closer by his shirtfront. "Keep your voice down, will you?"

"Or what, Hannibal?" he says, and he sounds like he genuinely wants to hear the answer. "You could be thrown out of the army, I just told you I want to have sex with you and, just in case everything between us wasn’t fucked to hell already, we’re both hard. So, tell me, what could you do that would make matters worse than they are right now?”

Hannibal considers this for a moment, gets distracted by Face being pressed against him, all heat and the smell of his ridiculously expensive shampoo and his groin bumping Hannibal’s, and settles for kissing him instead.

“Does this mean we can fuck?” Face gasps, and Hannibal growls and bites his neck. “ _Shit._ I’ll take that as yes, then.”

“Jesus Christ, Face,” Hannibal groans and wrestles him down onto the couch. “Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Nope,” Face says, but he goes quiet when Hannibal settles between his spread legs and kisses him again.

It’s a little uncomfortable and suitably awkward, two tall men on a moderately sized sofa trying to find the best position to grind against one another, but Hannibal really can’t be bothered moving this to the bedroom just now. It gets a bit better when Face extracts his leg from where it’s wedged between Hannibal’s side and the cushions and wraps it around his hips instead. And it gets a _lot_ better when Hannibal puts one foot on the floor, kneels up a bit and pulls Face in by the hips even as he thrust forward.

“Oh, fuck,” Face moans, fingers digging into Hannibal’s back and hips bucking. "You're wearing too many clothes, boss," he complains, tugging at Hannibal's shirt.

"I really hate you right now, kid," Hannibal groans, muffled by Face's shoulder, before sitting up to take his shirt off.

"Liar,” Face says, and fabric blocks Hannibal’s vision but he can hear the grin in the kid's voice. “You love me, really.”

"You're lucky I do," he mutters, and raises an eyebrow when Face stares at his naked chest. "What? If you were expecting tits, I'm sorry to disappoint."

Face shakes his head, and says, "Uh, no, you're just," he trails off and Hannibal raises that eyebrow further. "Can I touch you?"

"That's generally how it works, kid," he says, sliding his hands under the hem of Face's shirt and getting a soft hum in response.

Face rolls his eyes. "No kidding."

Hannibal winks at him and leans down to kiss his chest, and Face's hands slide up his back to hold on to his upper arms when they start moving their hips again. It's not particularly refined, just their cocks rubbing together through layers of denim and long, hard kisses interspersed with nips at throats and chests.

"Hannibal," Face moans, twisting his head to the side and giving Hannibal the perfect opportunity to lick it. "Fuck, boss, I, I'm--"

Hannibal shuts him up with another kiss, and Face makes the most wonderful sounds into his mouth. He squeezes a hand between them and opens Face's jeans, the kid's bucking hips less than helpful but reassuring in his eagerness to be touched, and all it takes is Hannibal squeezing him through his underwear, once or twice, and his back's arching and he's coming.

In orgasm, Face's eyes are closed and his mouth falls open, brow creasing and fingers digging into Hannibal's shoulders. He makes a harsh, gasping noise that dissolves into keening moans as Hannibal rubs him through his sticky-wet boxers, and oh, _that’s_ what Face sounds like when he comes.

"Holy shit," he mutters, eyes still closed, and Hannibal has to grin.

"Good?" he asks, and Face laughs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He's flushed and smiling and when he opens his eyes he looks a little bit dazed. "I just came in my pants like a fucking teenager, man."

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Hannibal teases, and kisses him again. Face’s post-orgasmic kisses are different, less systematic and more boneless and they make him appear like he's a lot less experienced than he lets on, and Hannibal decides that he loves them.

He's busy exploring Face's mouth and trying not to get so carried away with biting at his lips as to actually leave any marks when the kid pushes a hand between them and squeezes him through his jeans. It makes him break away with a low groan and Face fumbles with his belt before he reaches down to help him.

"Sorry," Face says quietly, "I guess it's a bit more difficult when it's not your own pants, huh?" He gives a little nervous laugh and Hannibal kisses him again, just because.

Getting out of his pants feels wonderful and he has to hide a grin when Face stares and blushes all the way down his chest. It gives Hannibal the opportunity to tug off the rest of both their clothes and toss them somewhere behind himself, and he's amazed at how comfortable Face is in his own skin, even as he's embarrassed about what they're doing in the way that everyone is their first time.

He strokes his palm down Face's side and gets a shaky sigh and a hardening of nipples in response, and he smiles reassuringly when Face lays a hand on his skin in the safe area between ribs and navel with a questioning look. "Go on," he says, and Face blushes more even as he starts exploring Hannibal's upper body.

"Can I," Face chews his lip and glances up at him, his hand low on Hannibal's stomach and teasingly close to his hard cock. "I mean, do you want me to," he trails off again, eyes wide and very blue and searching Hannibal's face for god knows what.

"You can do what you like, kid," he says, and slides a hand into Face's hair, rubbing his scalp. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

Face moans softly and pushes against Hannibal's hand like a big cat being petted, and he tentatively closes his hand around the erection in front of him. Hannibal makes an encouraging noise and Face experimentally strokes up and down, just once, before looking up again with more questions in his eyes.

"You're doing fine, kid," Hannibal tells him, dragging his thumbnail around Face's nipple in an attempt to distract him into feeling comfortable.

Face nudges him to lie back then, and Hannibal soon finds himself on his back with the kid straddling his thighs. His smile is a little timid when Hannibal's hands run up his legs to rest on his hips, but he takes Hannibal's cock back in hand with a bit more confidence than before. His strokes start out slow and careful, his grip too loose for Hannibal to get much out of it, but it’s nice and he figures letting Face get comfortable with touching another man on his own time is probably the best course of action.

He watches the kid's face for the most part, hands idly playing up his sides or rubbing his hipbones, and he's breathtakingly gorgeous like this; cheeks flushed and lower lip caught between his teeth, an adorable little crease between his eyebrows as he focuses on the shaft in his hand, and Hannibal can't resist tugging him down for another kiss by the back of his neck.

Face moans into his mouth, a startled, excited sound as he braces himself with one hand on Hannibal's chest and the other involuntarily tightens around his cock. Hannibal groans and thrusts up into his fist, and Face's eyes are wide and his breath comes fast as he sits back up and squeezes again.

Hannibal's hands dig into the kid's hips, and he says, "Oh, fuck."

"Is that," Face says, and then stops to clear his throat when his voice comes out scratchy. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay," Hannibal says, forcing his eyes open and offering Face what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "You're doing great. Just keep going." Face exhales shakily and grins a bit, shifting on Hannibal's legs. Looking down reveals the kid is getting hard again, and he can't quite keep the chuckle in at that. Face looks offended and embarrassed for a moment, then Hannibal rubs his thumb against the base of his half-erect cock and it gives a twitch in response and his expression melts into arousal.

"Hannibal," he moans, sounding a little distressed, and grabs his wrist. "Can I, I mean, I'd like to, uh, would it be--"

"You really need to ask if it's okay for you to get me off?" Hannibal asks, and Face shifts awkwardly.

"I, uh," he says, and Hannibal takes pity on him, taking his hand and bringing it up to his mouth to lick the palm before wrapping it back around his own cock. The licking got him a gasp and a twitch of the hips in response, and that's something he files away to explore later. 

Face gets bolder then, and more creative, and he soon finds that Hannibal likes it hard but not too fast, that pulling the foreskin down and exposing the sensitive head makes him growl and blowing cold air onto the damp, heated skin makes him shudder helplessly. Face's grin is pure delight when he rubs his thumb against the spot just below the crown and squeezes just so, making pre-come well up in the slit, and Hannibal closes his eyes with a groan. Which proves to have been a rather bad idea, because the next thing he knows there's wet, hot suction around his cock and he's gasping and trying to resist the urge to thrust up into Face's mouth before he's even opened his eyes again to get a look.

When he does, what he sees makes him groan and cup his hand around the back of Face's head, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. He takes a little more of Hannibal into his mouth, hand tight around the base and every exhale an overwhelmed little noise in the back of his throat that sends shivers up and down Hannibal's cock.

Hannibal sits up a bit more and Face glances up at him, all tousled hair sticking to his forehead and horribly innocent eyes and his mouth stretched obscenely around Hannibal's girth. "Jesus, kid," Hannibal groans, and Face scoots down on his legs a little more for a better position.

He starts bobbing his head then, sucking first too gently and then too hard until he finds the perfect amount to make Hannibal's back arch, occasionally pulling off to lick up and down the entire length or tease his tongue into the slit or just rub his lips over the hard flesh. It's all a bit too fast and frantic, Face desperate to do everything he can think of and Hannibal sort of wishes he'd stick with one thing long enough for him to just come, but the kid's making the most delicious, turned on sounds and his cock is hard and wet against Hannibal's leg and he can't really bring himself to complain.

At one point Face tries to take all of him into his mouth, which ends with a fair amount of gagging and coughing and a shamefaced lieutenant pulling off and wiping streaming eyes on the back of his hand.

"Sorry," he gasps, not really looking at Hannibal.

"You don't have to apologize, Face," he says, and sits up more fully to draw him into his lap and rub his back. "You're new to this. There's nothing wrong with that. Take your time."

Face burrows against Hannibal's shoulder and his voice is muffled by Hannibal's neck. "Fuck, I don't know what I'm doing. I just want it to be good for you."

"Hey," Hannibal kisses his ear and coaxes him to lift his head, " _you_ are making this good. You don't have to be perfect at everything, kid." Face makes a non-committal noise and Hannibal lightly bites at his jaw. "Besides," he murmurs, taking both of them into one of his hands, "showing you how this works will be half the fun."

"Yeah?" Face gasps, fingers digging into Hannibal's sides and hips thrusting up into his hand.

"Oh, yeah," he confirms, and rubs his thumb over the heads of their cocks even as he kisses Face again.

"Boss?" Face whines, getting close again already from the sounds of it. "Hannibal?"

"What is it, Face?" Hannibal asks, and it comes out as more of a groan as he can feel his own orgasm approaching, working them faster in his fist.

"Can you fuck me?" he asks, voice shaking a little and his cheeks burning, and Hannibal groans in response.

"I think it's a bit late for that, love," he grinds out, toppling over and back into the cushions as Face bucks and grinds against him, neither of them stopping or even slowing down.

"Please?" he gasps, face buried against Hannibal's chest, their thrusts against each other getting hard and frantic enough to shift the couch over the hardwood floor with ominous scratching noises. "Please, fuck me."

"Sorry, kid," Hannibal says, tilting his head up to muffle some of the noises they're making in a kiss. He slides his hand down to cup Face's ass, sliding a finger between his cheeks to rub against his perineum and then rhythmically massage his opening. Face keens and tilts his hips, thrusting forward into Hannibal's fist and back onto the finger that's just resting where he thinks he really wants it and not penetrating. "I'd love to, but I'm pretty sure I'd lose it before I'm even inside you."

Face gasps harshly and there's wetness against Hannibal's palm, and with how much the kid is thrusting into his hand and against his own cock he doesn't even need to do much to give him the friction he needs to get off. Face's second orgasm seems to take longer, and he's quieter throughout it, his open mouth pressed against the side of Hannibal's neck and only a low, drawn-out groan coming out as he twitches and clenches and shakes.

He's boneless on top of him, and Hannibal doesn't really want to disturb him, so he takes only himself in hand and with a few, practiced pulls and a twist he's adding to the semen already covering his belly. Face kisses him and bites down on his tongue about halfway through, and it wrenches a guttural moan from Hannibal and makes his toes curl and his twitching cock throb in his hand.

For a few moments there's only their harsh breathing and the smell of sex, and Hannibal's dozed off a little when Face says, "Jesus, boss, you're hot when you come."

Hannibal cracks an eye open and raises his brows, and Face blushes a little where he’s propped himself up on Hannibal’s chest. "You're not bad yourself, kid."

Face laughs, and rubs a hand over his mouth. "So, uh, this was okay for you then?"

Hannibal cups his face in his palm, the skin smooth and soft against his callouses, and he realises how easy it is to forget how young Face still is, beneath that brash facade. "It was fantastic, love." Face startles a little at the use of the endearment and Hannibal desperately tries to backpedal, but the kid interrupts.

"Can we do this again?" he asks, fast and breathless like he just wants to get the syllables out before he thinks better of it. "I know you said you don't do emotional stuff and that's, uh, that's cool, really. It's just that this is nice and I'd like to do it again sometime, or often, or, like, all the time. If you want to, that is."

Hannibal has to smile; the kid's cute when he babbles. "Face?"

"Yeah?" he says, looking nervous and like he's suddenly acutely aware that he's naked and straddled over his equally naked CO with their combined sweat and come covering them, and he lay his head back down on Hannibal’s shoulder.

"When I said I didn't do emotional?" Hannibal says, and Face nods, fingers digging into Hannibal's chest like a cat pumping its claws when his back is rubbed. "I was kind of lying through my teeth there, kid."

Face breaks into a slow, happy grin then, and props his chin up on Hannibal's sternum to look at him again. "So, you do love me, then?" he teases, and presses a kiss to the underside of Hannibal's chin.

"Of course I do, brat," Hannibal grumbles, and pulls him up for a kiss. It's slower this time and a lot gentler, and Hannibal thinks he could get used to having Face in his arms, even as sticky and stifling and heavy as he is now.

"Awesome," Face says, and Hannibal has to laugh.

"Up," he says, manoeuvring them both into standing. "You're in dire need of a shower, kid."

"You're one to talk," Face says, and Hannibal slaps his ass just to watch him jump and blush. "You're a dirty, old man, boss," Face accuses, stealing kisses on the way to the bathroom.

"You love it, kid," Hannibal says, leaning past him to reach into the shower to switch on the water.

"Yeah," Face sighs, idly rubbing his fingers through the mess on Hannibal's stomach. "What about the DADT thing, though?"

“What about it?” Hannibal asks, hand wet from the shower when it comes to rest on Face’s waist.

“Well, what we just did is against regulations,” Face says, almost like he’s only now realising the implications of his actions and isn’t that just typical.

Hannibal shrugs. “Fuck them.”

Face blinks a few times, confused. “Fuck them?” he asks, incredulous. “Hannibal, we could be thrown out of the army for this.”

“Bit late for second thoughts now, kid,” Hannibal says, not unkindly, and brushes the backs of his fingers down his cheek. “Besides, you don’t want to be in another unit. And when have I ever not gotten us out of a hopeless situation?”

“I know, I just,” Face sighs and leans into Hannibal’s hand. “You love the army, boss. And so do I. What would we even do without it?”

“Fuck knows,” Hannibal says, and kisses Face’s forehead. “But if it comes to it we’ll figure something out. We always do.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’d choose me over the army?” Face asks, and he looks a little taken aback.

“I just did, didn’t I?” Hannibal says, pulling Face into a hug and pretends he doesn’t see how overwhelmed the kid is. “But really, Face, we’ll be fine. Decker finds a reason to have me investigated for something every other year and it was time again. Last time it was drugs and the time before that it was for fucking the General’s wife.”

Face pulls back. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” Hannibal says, and grins at him as he shoves him into the steaming shower.

“Hey, boss,” Face says, arching into Hannibal’s soapy hands, “if you had to choose between me and the cigars—“

“Don’t push your luck, kid.”


End file.
